


Experience

by kjack89



Category: Les Misérables - All Media Types
Genre: Alternate Universe - Modern Setting, Dysfunctional Relationships, Established Relationship, Fluff and Angst, Jealous Enjolras, Jealousy, M/M, Miscommunication, Misunderstandings, sheer idiocy
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2014-06-04
Updated: 2014-06-04
Packaged: 2018-02-03 10:06:05
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,897
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/1740713
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/kjack89/pseuds/kjack89
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Enjolras is jealous of Grantaire's past, and Grantaire just doesn't want to talk about it.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Experience

**Author's Note:**

> I find it easier to conceptualize Grantaire as jealous of Enjolras's past as opposed to vice-versa, but here we are.
> 
> Usual disclaimer - please be kind and tip your fanfic writers in the form of comments and/or kudos.

“Christ, that was good.”

Grantaire rolled onto his side and smirked at Enjolras, who was breathing heavily, his blond curls plastered against his forehead. “Yeah, I know.”

It was meant to sound off-hand but came off as cocky, and Enjolras raised an eyebrow at him. “You hardly need to rub in the fact that you’re much more experienced than I,” he said, too blissfully fucked-out to muster any sort of actual ire, though he did pout prettily at Grantaire, who just laughed.

“It’s not rubbing it in if it’s stating a fact,” Grantaire told Enjolras, a little smugly, and kissed him. “Besides, what you might lack in experience you make up for in…enthusiasm.”

Enjolras laughed as well and rolled over onto his side to kiss Grantaire at a better angle. “And I can definitely promise continued enthusiasm, until I get a bit more experience.” His skimmed his fingers up Grantaire’s side, marveling at the contrast between his pale, soft skin and Grantaire’s tanner, muscled sides. “Speaking of experience…”

Grantaire raised an eyebrow at Enjolras. “If you’re even thinking of getting experience elsewhere, you and I need to have a very serious conversation.”

Enjolras flushed slightly and muttered, a little petulantly, “ _You_  got your experience elsewhere.”

“Yeah, but long before you and I started dating,” Grantaire pointed out, his brow furrowing as looked at Enjolras. “Where are you going with this? You know that I’ve dated other people, you know that I’ve slept with other people. Does that matter? Because I can’t really change that.”

Though Enjolras’s blush deepened, he shook his head and dropped his hand from Grantaire’s side, starting to turn away. “Never mind,” he muttered. “It doesn’t matter.”

Grantaire’s frown deepened. “Clearly it does, or you wouldn’t have brought it up. What, are you jealous of my past?” Enjolras didn’t speak, and Grantaire let out an incredulous laugh. “Wait, seriously? You’re jealous of the fact that I’ve been with people before you?”

“Not just that,” Enjolras muttered, still avoiding Grantaire’s gaze. “I just…you’re my first. In more ways than one. And you…you had other firsts. A first kiss, a first love, and many others after that. I mean, how many people have you dated? Or slept with?”

Grantaire shook his head and sat up in bed, his expression stony. “Why does it matter?”

Enjolras sat up as well, crossing his arms in front of his chest. “I…it doesn’t, I guess. I just…I want to know about your past. I want to know what I’m up against.”

Again, Grantaire let out a dry laugh, this time a little bitter. “What you’re  _up against_?” he repeated. “You’re not up against  _anything_. You’re the guy that I’m dating. It’s not like I’m gonna, I don’t know, cheat on you or something because I’ve fucked people besides you!”

“I’m not saying that you are!” Enjolras shot back. “I’m just saying that you have something to compare this to, and I’d like to know what — and how many — people I’m being compared to!”

Grantaire stood up from Enjolras’s bed, stooping to grab his boxers off the floor, his every movement livid. “If you think,” he seethed, “that what you and I have is comparable to anything in my past, you’re a complete fucking idiot.”

He grabbed the rest of his clothes and stormed out of Enjolras’s bedroom, leaving Enjolras in bed, trying to figure out what exactly he had said, and how exactly he could go about fixing it.

* * *

 

At the next Les Amis meeting, Grantaire sat in the back of the room, nursing a single beer. This wasn’t exactly new behavior by any means, but it was a behavior that he hadn’t exhibited since he and Enjolras had started dating, and it caused more than a few concerned glances thrown his way. Bossuet sat down next to him, conferring in a low tone, and Enjolras, who had been watching Grantaire ever since he had slumped in, cleared his throat. “Let’s get started.”

The meeting carried on as it normally did, minus some of Grantaire’s more glib interjections, until the end, when things were wrapping up, and Enjolras cleared his throat. “I have something that I want to say,” he said, “something of a personal matter, but that I want made public.”

In the back of the room, Grantaire froze, and Enjolras cleared his throat again before continuing, “I want every single person in this room, all of whom I value as my closest friends, that I love Grantaire, and that I am so incredibly glad that Grantaire has chosen to be with me.”

Grantaire let out a noise like a deflating balloon, his face crimson, and everyone exchanged glances ranging from amused to concerned. Enjolras barreled onward. “I may have said something that has hurt him, which is why I want to take this moment here to tell him that while I’m jealous of every single person that Grantaire has been with before me because I’m jealous of the affection that he’s given to people who are not me, I don’t care how many people he’s been with. I don’t care who Grantaire has slept with. It was wrong of me to care and to bring it up when it’s something he doesn’t want to talk about.”

“If he didn’t want to talk about it in private,” Bahorel started, staring from Enjolras to Grantaire as if he honestly couldn’t believe this conversation was taking place, “why the hell would you bring it up in public?”

“To demonstrate my commitment to mending what I broke between us,” Enjolras said easily, as if the answer was obvious.

Jehan was staring at Grantaire with wide eyes, watching as Grantaire’s grip on his bottle tightened. “Enjolras,” Combeferre sighed, clearly exasperated and ready to head off any further foot into mouth insertion, but Grantaire stood, his expression blank.

“If you think that has somehow fixed anything,” he started, then broke off, exhaling heavily. He set his bottle down on the table carefully and turned to glare at Enjolras. “Clearly you continue to not understand why I’m uncomfortable with this conversation, but thank you for making me even more uncomfortable.”

With that, he stormed out of the Musain, leaving Enjolras staring after him, pained expression on his face. “You ass,” Feuilly said, which surprised everyone, since Feuilly normally tried to stay out of these kinds of things. “In what world did that seem like a good idea?”

“I thought…” Enjolras started, before his voice dropped off and he muttered something that sounded suspiciously like “grand romantic gesture”.

Courfeyrac snorted and rolled his eyes. “Well, the good news for the rest of us in relationships, you’ve pretty much won the award for most dysfunctional handling of a relationship issue, so…thanks for setting that bar high.”

* * *

 

Enjolras hesitated in front of Grantaire’s apartment before knocking on the door. He had come to apologize, even if he wasn’t necessarily sure what he was supposed to be apologizing for. Obviously, he needed to apologize on multiple levels for what happened at the meeting, and he knew that, but there was more to what was going on with Grantaire, and Enjolras wasn’t even sure how to go about broaching that issue.

Still, he had to start somewhere, so knocked on the door, holding his breath as he waited for Grantaire to answer. “Oh,” Grantaire said dully when he opened the door to find Enjolras standing there — so different a reaction than his usual, which normally involved practically tackling Enjolras as he kissed him. “What do you want?”

“I came to apologize,” Enjolras said, a little stiffly, not because he didn’t mean it, but because Grantaire’s attitude was putting him on edge.

Grantaire managed a weak half-smile. “Do you even know what you’re apologizing for?”

Enjolras half-smiled as well. “Yes, and at the same time, very much no.” He sighed and ran a hand through his hair. “Can I come in at least? Or do I have to do this standing in your doorway?” Grantaire shrugged and took a step back, allowing Enjolras to step inside. He followed him to the couch, and after they had both sat down, a little uncomfortably, Enjolras sighed and said, “I really am sorry. I’m sorry for embarrassing you at the meeting tonight and I’m sorry for not understanding why you were — or are — upset. And I’m sorry that I’m an asshole who can’t apparently deal with these things in a normal way.”

Grantaire snorted. “Well, there is that.”

Enjolras glanced at him. “Can you…can you try to explain why you’re upset that I’m curious about how many people you’ve been with? I want to understand, really, I do, and I’m sorry that I don’t, but…”

“It’s hard to explain…” Grantaire hedged, and Enjolras shook his head, frustrated.

“I get that, but,  _please_ , Grantaire, because I want to understand, and—”

“Because I don’t know!” Grantaire burst, his face flushed. “Because I honestly couldn’t tell you how many people I’ve fucked, and because I’m embarrassed by that fact! Because before you, I didn’t give much thought to the difference between sex and love, and because the people I’ve slept with don’t matter.  _You_  do — you’re the only one who has mattered.” His shoulders slumped and he looked away. “And because every time you bring it up you make me wish that it had been you all along.”

Enjolras was quiet for a long moment after this outburst, his expression shuttered, pensive. Then he said, his voice low, “I never considered how lucky I am, getting to experience love and sex at the same time.”

Grantaire looked at him, surprised. “You love me?” he asked, a little desperately. “Even with everything I’ve just told you?”

Shrugging, Enjolras half-smiled at him. “I more or less made you tell me, and that was wrong on my part, and I could never hold that against you. But even with what you’ve told me, the only thing you’ve shown me is that your past  _doesn’t_  matter.  What matters is our future, together. If you still want me, anyway.”

“I don’t know if I could ever not want you,” Grantaire said honestly, leaning in to kiss Enjolras. His touch was tentative, his kiss hesitant, until Enjolras cupped his cheek and deepened the kiss. When they broke apart, Grantaire rested his forehead against Enjolras’s. “I love you.”

They kissed again, and Enjolras asked, “Are we ok now?” He didn’t dare ask if he was forgiven — didn’t know if he had earned that — but he wanted to ensure that they were alright, or at least were going to be.

Grantaire smiled and kissed him. “Well, we could probably stand to do some work on our future…” he said, his tone suggestive, and his hand slipped under Enjolras’s shirt.

Enjolras laughed lightly and kissed Grantaire’s forehead. “There’s no time like the present to work on my experience, I suppose.” He took Grantaire’s hand and tugged him towards the bedroom.

They were ok — or at least, they were going to be. Grantaire needed to forgive Enjolras for overstepping his bounds, and Enjolras needed to earn back Grantaire’s trust, but they would be able to work on that — together. And regardless of either of their pasts, they had a present that they intended to share, and a future to work towards, and at the moment, that was all that mattered.


End file.
